Heart broken
by rockster0810
Summary: Losing Clark is too much for her heart to handle. I know its completely out of character but this is based off a dream of mine. Warning :does have suicide. If you don't like it when people play up the characters ...don't read!


**I DO NOT OWN ANY ONE IN THIS FANFIC IN ANY WAY!**

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He was her forbidden fruit, the one thing that she'd never be able to have..something that she couldn't touch. Her heart ached to have him by her side once again...but it would never happen. He loved another, always had. Her feelings for him drove her to insanity but no matter how desperate those feelings made her...she knew that those feelings would never be returned.

Her mind constantly traveled back to the times where he would hold her in his strong arms as they watched the sunset. To the times where he would whisper sweet nothings in her ear while their bodies locked together in a dance as old as time. She missed his unnatural warmth and his scent that reminded her of summer. She missed all the things that made him who he was and wasn't.

She'd watch him openly give endless amounts of affection to the woman that holds his heart, to the one who is every bit his perfect match and equal. For that reason she'd never let her walls break or her true feelings show. She didn't want him to see how broken she was on the inside. She knew that if he found out how heart broken she was that he would worry and lose happiness...she couldn't be the one responsible for taking the smile from his face.

Now sitting in her dark room, her grief took over and she soaked her pillow in bitter, hot tears one last time. Why wasn't she enough...why couldn't he love her. Had she not given him her everything? The same questions that always filled her mind made the flow of her tears double. She felt useless and incomplete. Her dark hair curtained her face and stuck to her cheeks, making it a tangled mess.

She lifted her face from her pillow and looked at her favorite picture on her nightstand. It had been taken many years ago but she could still feel his arms around her and the scent of his shampoo. She could still hear his loud laugh and the way his boots would squeak when he'd walk, the way the blue of his eyes stood out. She could still feel the crisp winter air on her cheeks as they posed for the picture in the snow. The picture had been taken a few months before he left her and just a few weeks before he started to pull away from her. She loved the picture because it was from a time where she thought that maybe...he loved her.

She found herself thinking back to when he told her that he didn't want to play this game anymore and that he was going to go find the woman that held his heart. That's what hurt her the most, the fact that he thought it had all been a game when she had fallen so deeply in love with him. He could be so stupid and ignorant of what was right in front of him at times. But all she could do was hold back her tears, say that she understood and watch him walk away. She couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if she had told him how she felt, and if he'd still be with her if she had. Because it wasn't a game to her then and it still wasn't.

As she wiped the tears from her face and tried to some what fix the mess of her unruly hair, she got out of her bed and sat down at her desk. She pulled a few sheets of paper out of a folder and placed it in front of herself. Regardless of how upset she was, her writing would still be beautiful and elegant. She didn't want him to see the hurt in her words. Taking a calming breath, she began to write a letter that would hold the last words she would ever say to him. She knew someone else could read it but she didn't care, they were her words to him and she knew that he needed to know how she felt.

It didn't take her long to finish theletter. The words she wrote down were the same ones that she had repeated over and over again in her mind as she fought the urges to pull him aside and tell him to his face. But she never could. She couldn't do that to him and certainly not to the one who held his heart...she was too kind and sweet of a person, she was too innocent in all of this.

She carefully folded up the letter and wrote his name on it's pure white face. She knew that he would find it and she hoped it would be soon. She hated what she was doing but she couldn't deal with the pain anymore, she couldn't deal with the heartbreak. She knew that she would never find another who could possibly compare to him. No other man could capture her heart the way he had. She had honestly tried to move on but it was useless. She'd always find herself comparing the men she dated to him. None of them even came close to him. None were God-like, none could fly with her around the world. As much as she hated it, she knew that she had no other choice.

Slowly standing, she picked up the dagger from her desk and pulled it from its sheath andwalked back over to her bed and sat down. She didn't shed any tears and she let all her regrets go. She knew she would finally be free from the pain of a broken heart. She moved to the middle of her bed, propped her pillows up behind her and laid back as she pulled her deep violet sheets up to her waist. She took in the beauty of her bedroom and whispered a quiet prayer to the gods, begging for forgiveness.

The dagger's tip was placed on the pulse point of her slender wrist. Slowly yet effectively, she pushed down and drug the dagger down the center of her arm, to the bend of her elbow. Her warm blood immediately began to flow out of the deep cut and soaked her sheets. As soon as she slit her wrist, she could feel her life slipping away. Her vision became blurry and her mouth went dry. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to drift to a peaceful place where she was once again wrapped in his arms and they danced away into the light. As her life left her body...she whispered "I love you, Clark."

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A few hours later, after many missed phone calls and texts...Clark was knocking on Diana's apartment door.

"It's odd that she's not answering", Clark thought. She always answered her door by the second knock. Worried, he hit the door with his shoulder and easily broke the locks. Her apartment was deathly quiet which made Clark's stomach twist into knots. Dianna normally always had the TV on or music playing. He saw her purse, keys and cell phone sitting on her coffee table which indicated that she was still at home.

"Dianna", Clark called out. He waited a few moments before walking past her couch and into her kitchen. He called out her name again and when he still didn't get a response, he decided to check her bedroom. He still knew her apartment well, even though he hadn't been in it for over a year. Clark took in his surroundings and sighed. Nothing had changed. Same pictures, same decorations, and same furniture.

Dianna's bedroom door was closed so Clark knocked again as he called out her name. When he still didn't get a response. "She must be asleep", he thought. He twisted the door knob and pushed the door open. When he saw her, he gasped at her beauty. He thought that she looked the most beautiful with out make-up. He had always loved it when she would allow the natural red of her full lips to show instead of covering it up with lipstick.

Clark stood stunned at the bedroom door, stunned into silence. Dianna's pale skin seemed perfect, devoid of any kind flaws or blemishes. Her dark hair was fanned out on top of her pillow and her ruby lips were slightly parted. She stood out against the dark violet of her sheets. He wanted to reach out and kiss her but he knew that he couldn't. Instead, Clark sucked in a breath and walked over to her bed.

The sight that he found once he got closer made him gasp. He could now see the blood stains on her sheets and carpet. Clark immediately checked her pulse point and the ice cold skin that met his warm fingers confirmed his worst fears...Dianna, the great Wonder Woman had taken her own life. Unshed tears began to sting his sky blue eyes. His first question was why would such a beautiful and selfless woman do such a thing. He turned to her desk, knowing that she left a note or something stating the reason why.

As sobs rocked though his body, Clark walked to Dianna's desk and almost immediately found the folded letter with his name on it. He slowly unfolded it and read it.

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**_Clark,_**

**_I love you. Always have and always will. Please don't blame yourself for this. I just couldn't deal with the pain of seeing you with Lois...someone that you loved...someone that wasn't me._**

**_Love, Dianna_**

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Clark dropped the letter and fell to his knees. Why didn't she come to him and tell him how she felt. He wanted to be angry with her and to shake her body and somehow force her back to life...but he knew it was no use. The more he thought about, he began to understand why she never told him, because it wouldn't have changed a thing. She knew that he loved Lois and that he wouldn't leave her. She knew that no matter what she did, he would never return her feelings. Guilt stabbed at his heart. He should have seen the signs of her depression, he should have knew that she was holding something back.

Clark stood and walked back over to Dianna's lifeless body. He took in her beauty one last time and softly moved a piece of hair from her angel like face. He turned from her and walked out into her living room. He choked back his tears as much as he could and called the police and the other members of the Justice League. Not one of them will take her death lightly and he knows that they will all in someway blame him. But Clark doesn't care. He just stands there, wishing for one more day with the woman who's heart he had completely broken.


End file.
